


if you forget me - dont go far off

by lumierenuit



Category: Erkenci Kuş (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-22
Updated: 2019-06-19
Packaged: 2020-01-24 02:09:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18561811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lumierenuit/pseuds/lumierenuit
Summary: it's been over a year since can and sanem have seen each other.what happens when the universe brings them back together? can they pick up what was left behind? can they fix things that have been broken for far too long? or are they doomed to be apart forever?speculation of what ep40 will be like





	1. your love, beloved

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first fanfic i've ever written so please be gentle with me y'all! i love this show and these characters so so much so I just had to write what I think might happen in the upcoming episodes.  
> thank you for taking the time to read some of my words and i hope you all enjoy and i would love to hear what you think below!!

she wished she knew how to be brave.

Pacing the hallways, she took a deep breath with every click of her heels. It wasn’t that big of a deal. She told herself this over and over. Everyone was already inside, just her in this big empty hall and still, she felt like she was being crushed by something, by everything. She pushed her hair and the worrying thoughts aside, throwing them across her shoulder.

With a hand over her heart, she forced the restless beating back into her chest every time it beat too hard and threatened to leap out, to escape through the nearby windows. She was _this_ close to letting that happen and following it all the way through and out onto the streets below. It would be far better, far safer than what was beyond the doors in front of her, what was sitting in that room for her, _who_ was there waiting for her.

She wished she could just pretend it wasn’t that big of a deal.

Her hands hovered over the handles of the door before her. The slight shake in her hands had her rings and bracelets singing a song she wish she knew the lyrics to because it’s like she’s forgotten everything and everyone in the world and suddenly she’s somehow a breath away from changing her life, a breath away from opening new chapters and new people, but also leaving behind other things, other memories – and she can’t do it.

Frustrated with herself, frustrated with the turn of events, frustrated with everything, she moved her hands away again _¸_ and walked away. Away from the fear, from the worry, from the things that she doesn’t want to face just yet. Letting her feet take control, she hoped it would take her outside these dreaded halls, guide her back to somewhere where she could breathe freely, where she could just be at peace, but they just carried her to the bathroom. Carrying her to the only thing scarier than what was waiting behind those doors – herself.

She was never good at lying, and quite frankly she never wished to be.

She looks in the reflection and it’s an instant pull back into another world. The white dress she wears reminds her of another worn on a different night. Memories ring throughout her body. Of never-forgotten kisses, of strong arms surrounding her, of gentle fingers through her hair. They always ring throughout her - it would be a lie to say they didn’t, but she’s gotten good at pretending they aren’t as loud as they truly are. And sometimes she’s so good at lying, at pretending, she even believes it. And sometimes she can smile freely and laugh almost without hearing that ringing, but then she looks to her right, looking for _him_ , looking to share it with him and it all comes crashing down.

Today isn’t like that. It was already thundering in her from the moment she woke up and now, looking at the mirror before her, she could almost see the thump-thump-thump of the song in her heart sending vibrations across her reflection – it always feels like he's here with her even when he isn’t.

But most of all, she wished she could remember to forget him.

She hated how her cruel, brilliant, self-sabotaging brain remembered every detail, every single thing, every moment with such crystal-clear recollection. It was too much but not enough at the same time – he was always so, so, so real, so detailed that she felt like she could release a breath and see the way his long hair would move in tune with it. Even now, she could picture what he would do, seeing her now in this dress, on this day. How he would give her that smile that was made just for her, his hands already reaching out to bring her close. She could already feel a smile forming on her face. Just from remembering, from knowing how easy it would be to just reach out and hold his hands, to caress his cheeks, run a finger down the side of his face.

 But it didn’t matter, none of it mattered. Because no matter how much she knew, how much she remembered - she remembered it _all_ \- it was not going to bring him back and it was not going to bring them together.

She straightened her back, a finger now pointing to the other her and whispered, “Get it together, Sanem. It’s not like he’s some scary dragon or monster that’s going to eat you. It’s Ahmet, the one who has helped you this past year with your book. The man who has supported you and been kind to you and,” she paused gathering her courage to say what she was so afraid to say, “and the man you call your boyfriend.”

There was no real conviction behind those words, no real truth. It was just a sentence tossed into the wind, waiting to see who would catch it and make it a reality. And Sanem didn’t know if it was really true – they went on a few dates but never even kissed, never wanted to. She was never really sure if she even wanted it to be real. But it had been a year and if she didn’t do something now, she would never be able to do something. She had given herself this last year to move on, to become her own person. And now that she has, with the success of her very first book, she - alongside everyone else in her life - believed it was time to find someone to share this success with. And so Ahmet it was.

She took a deep breath, straightened her shoulders, pointed her finger at the girl before her and said sternly, “You’re going to walk in there, not as Sanem, the writer, but Sanem, the Woman. And you’re going to go in there and – and – and you’re going to kiss him.”

The sudden thought rattled inside of her. Sanem didn’t know if this was a good idea and honestly it scared her to a frightening degree. But this fear, this fear it was good. It got her blood pumping and her heart racing in a way that it hadn’t in a long time. She felt alive – or was that that just all the warning bells ringing in her body, yelling at her to stop? At this point she couldn’t listen because she made up her mind. It was happening.

She strutted out the doors and down the empty hallways. Her heels hit every step with a determined song, with her head held high and her heart _literally_ about to puke, but she was already there. Sanem’s hand curled around the door handle and pried it open with a deep breath. And yet, she hesitated again.

What if this was a bad idea? She didn’t have to do this, not for anyone. But she wasn’t doing this for anyone – it was for herself, to prove that she was more than her past, that she could make her future with what _she_ chose to do, with whoever she _chose_ to be with.

And so when she saw the shadow of a man in the darkly lit room before her, she didn’t hesitate again. Sanem reached for his arm, turning him to face her, her hand guiding his face to meet hers. She shut her eyes quickly and just dove right into the kiss, feeling first and thinking second. Her lips pressed against his and she knew it instantly. From the way his arms came so instinctively down and around her waist, pulling her close to his chest, curving her body into his in a way that felt too safe, too right, too much. From the way he sighed into her mouth and she could’ve let it go on and on. She should’ve known from the moment she reached for his arm – far too strong, far too familiar, far too perfect. She should’ve known when she reached for his face – the curves fit too well into her palm, too beautiful and she didn’t even need to see it. She knew for sure in the way their lips met and then departed too soon, but still seemed to have a conversation with one another without ever saying a word. She knew it when his arms stayed frozen around her waist, hers around his shoulders, each gripping the other so tightly, afraid to let go, afraid to have this delicate, unreal, unbelievable thing shatter apart.

And then a breath. Something that just barely escapes, almost nothing in this world, but everything in this moment, breaks the silence in the room and wakes Sanem up.

She shakes the arms off her, shaking whatever the hell just happened off of her, and Sanem sprints out the room.

Sanem remembers another girl, another kiss, another runaway moment. But she isn’t that girl anymore. For a long time, she was so sure that person had stopped existing, had died months ago, had even wondered if she had ever existed. But now, she’s not so sure anymore.

And so, she runs.

Runs from the man behind her, from the voice calling her name, from everything calling after her, calling her back to him.

But the running couldn't stop one thing - even if she didn’t have photographic memory, never in a thousand years could she forget his voice and the way he said her name.

“Sanem!”

_Can._


	2. almost (sweet music)

It had been a year. Not to the exact day. It was more like a year and 2 months and 6 days, but he wasn’t counting. He really wasn’t. It was just that every day since then has been far too long and far too much that when the days got as long as they did, it became impossible not to pinpoint the moment it all went to shit.

And then there were those things that reminded him of what it was once like to have her.

He could be walking the streets of the most crowded city, surrounded by friends or by himself, all of the world and life around him, and yet his treacherous hands would be reaching out for her, to keep her close. He’d be reaching for a ghost, for a shadow that haunted him with every step he took. It hurt the most when he thought he could hear her laughter in a crowd – his eyes searching for the source of that beautiful song, to know who it belonged to, to who she was singing to, and why it wasn’t to him. But that didn’t stop him from looking, from reaching, from searching – constantly trying to find her in places she wouldn’t even be. He knew that when his eyes began to wander around it was for her. When someone would catch him in the act and ask him what he was looking for, he always said nothing. But it was always her.

It was why he didn’t go out in the city anymore.

Then there were the quiet things, the soft walks in a seemingly empty forest, or the hushed whispers near a park, a delicate night hanging in balance between this day and the next. And it was like, without even knowing he was doing it, he found himself missing, waiting in anticipation for her to tell another one of her stories, the kind that he never expected but was always excited to hear. Her voice would sneak up into him, curling all around his thoughts, snaking into every part of him, and if he had known that one day he wouldn’t get to hear her stories anymore, he’d have held the last story closer than he did. He would’ve held more than her story, more than just her voice. He would’ve never let her get far enough that he couldn’t hear her anymore. Because now that he’s been in the silence, he forgot what it was like to hear something beautiful again.

It was why he couldn’t stay alone too long anymore.

And then there was the tea thing. He knew it from the moment it was over, tea was going to be a problem. Because that was the first thing that brought them together, truly together. And it was the thing that kept bringing them back to each other. It was a needle that sewed their threads together, stitching another beautiful story that was the tapestry of their love. But it was torn apart, ripped at the seams, and now he can’t bear looking at them without remembering of a million different moments, of her mouth laughing, drinking, tasting, moving with so much life, so much energy, so much beauty. Of how she felt so passionately about everything, about food, even tea – especially tea. And at first, it was like seeing colour for the first time, when he saw the way she was. But now, that she was gone, the black and white world didn’t leave much of appetite.

It was why he “forgot” to drink and eat so much.

But sleep. That’s the one thing that hasn’t changed much. She is always there waiting for him. Sometimes she sits, others she is standing, on occasion she is right beside him, lying down in his bed. But she’s always waiting for him. She wears everything, from dresses to jeans, elaborate gowns to the simplest shirts. Whatever it is, she is the most beautiful thing he has ever seen. And every time, he can’t bring himself to even breath in her direction, to touch her like he once could, and yet he must. He has to because this is the one place he still can do this. And it’s the only place that she still smiles at him, where he can still see that one dimple that was made for him. Despite knowing that he was a man who tended to take up a lot of space wherever he went, being around her made him feel so small, that he found himself searching for ways to curl into her, to have her surround him. His head on her lap, or resting his heavy arms around her delicate shoulders, legs twisted with hers, his face into the softness of her neck and hair. He knew it wasn’t the same – he was always close but never close enough – but it was what he had and he was taking everything he could.

And that’s why he sleeps so much.

And that’s why he had agreed to come to this ridiculous gala. In his half-sleep, half-awake haze, he had agreed when his brother asked him to come to it. Although agreed would be a little too much of an exaggeration, for it would be more accurate to say that he just said yes so that Emre could leave sooner and let him get back to sleep.

He had only intended to stay in the city for a week – he had to help Emre with the agency and it was only because Emre was struggling balancing the job and having a baby on the way that he even came back to Istanbul. Before, he always used to say that she was the only one he ever saw, the only one he will ever see. Being without her, he found that was the truth, no matter how much he sometimes wished it wasn’t. If it was bad thinking about her in cities she’s never been in, it was worse to be in the place that he fell in love with her. He saw her everywhere even more.

So, that’s why he was here, in this auditorium, inside this dark room all alone. Waiting for his brother to return from the bathroom. Shuffling in his set, he couldn’t sit still anymore. He never was someone who could just stay in one place, with just one person. At one point, there was a time he was willing to with – but that was another life, another world, another him.

With a frustrated sigh, he got up from his seat, walking to look down the balcony below him. Another memory came rushing to the shore and before he could push it down, it came crashing down on him with such a force, he stepped back from the railing and moved closer the aisle. Dragging a hand down his face, he anxiously scratched at his beard before pulling back at his long hair, missing the feeling of having a bun to contain all the mess that he now has to deal with.

“What are you even doing,” Can whispered. Still standing, he tugged at the far too tight collar, and let his head hang down. Eyes shut, he let himself think of her. Just for a moment. Just her smile. Just her hair. And then he let her go again. He forced himself to be satisfied with this small piece of her that he had left and he came back to reality.

With a determined breath, he straightened himself, and headed to the balcony again. He could look over a crowd similar to another one he once knew, and he could do it without remembering her, only her. Looking over the crowd, he could see just how many people were here, and for a second, he got lost enough with the beauty of the auditorium, and he almost succeeded in not thinking of her.

Until he felt a small but strong hand tug him and he was turning, turning, turning, and then she was there. She was there. Here. Right now. And she was kissing him. She was holding his face and gripping his arms, and she was kissing him with so much fervor that he thought he must’ve been dreaming. For a second, he forgot what to do, how to move. But then there was that smell, her perfume, her scent. It welcomed him and sank into his arms, and he knew it wasn’t a dream because no dreams could recreate her perfect perfume, that thing that was just _her_. So, he let go and let his arms find home just like his lips did. And for a split second, he was just feeling and not thinking.

And it was so much better than his dreams could ever be.

But it was so much shorter too.

He couldn’t tell if it was her breath or his that fluttered out into the silence, but whosever it belonged to, he cursed it nevertheless. Because just like the air that escaped that mouth, she came and went from his arms just as quick, the only proof she was ever here was the breeze and her perfume that came from the door she ran out from.

She always like the wind. Too quick, too sudden to every catch.

But that never stopped him before. And so, while another Can had let another girl run away the first time they had kissed, this one wouldn’t.

With a shout and a soft smile on his face, he called out the only girl he had ever loved, the only one who had been on his mind for the last year. Well, the last year, 2 months and 6 days actually - and yes, he has been counting - and now that he’s seen her, he’ll do anything to see her again.

“Sanem!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi thank you all for the lovely comments and kudos!!! it really encouraged me to keep writing and I truly appreciate it from the bottom of my heart!!
> 
> also are yall excited for the next episode or what! i am so nervous but im so so excited to see where their story goes next!


	3. pink in the night

A week.

It had been a week since she last saw him. Since she had kissed him. She had run out of that auditorium faster than she thought was possible and she had found refuge in the next-door coffee shop. She stayed there trying to catch her breath for god knows how long, because that didn’t just happen. It was impossible. It was unreal. It was ridiculous. It was a dream. It was perfect – _no_ , no it wasn’t. It was a mistake. It was the universe playing twisted games. It was cruel fate dangling this man in front of her to remind her that no matter what happened to them, no matter how much she loves – no _loved_ – him, they could never be together. They would always be close but never together.

It hadn’t been easy saying goodbye.

She doesn’t let herself think about that day. Every time she starts, she can’t stop herself from crying. So now she remembers it in glimpses, in pieces, in drops. She doesn’t let the whole ocean crash over her – not after the first few waves threatened to drag her down, to lose all sight of the shore and drown. She lets it come to her like the summer rain, every touch, every word, comes down like soft drops that gives her the time to remember, to live those moments, but also the time to get out before she gets drenched, before she is too ruined to save herself.

_“Can, we can get through this.”_

_Hands reaching, holding, clutching. Tears on the brink of tipping over. A deep breath. Fragile, unspoken things, hung unbalanced in the air._

_“We are just going through a rough patch, but we can do this, we can. We’re strong enough to do this long distance I know we can. We just have to-”_

_A sudden embrace. A soft kiss. An even softer hug. Foreheads pressed together. Shaky breaths. Delicate hearts being pulled in every direction._

“Pull back, Sanem,” she whispered, “pull back, come on, girl. Get it together.”

She swims back to shore and away from the waves behind her. The past year gave her plenty of time to get better at holding back these tears and even better at pretending in front of other people that she hadn’t just been crying a few minutes before.

Sanem took a deep breath. Taking a moment to ground herself, she looked around her office, around the new life she built herself. Sitting at her hardwood desk, there was that old typewriter she kept in her old room. She rarely used it anymore – it hardly was a practical thing, but she did love using it for more poetic, more personal things, things she never spoke out loud. She was lucky enough to have an office with glass windows that gave her the beautiful view of the city. Walking from her seat, she admired the view, before turning back to survey the rest of the room, the soft couch she used to rest on long days, the many plants and flowers scattered on desks and shelves, the painting of her favourite quote sprawled across one of the walls:

“Love is not love/ Which alters when it alteration finds, / Or bends with the remover to remove: / O no! it is an ever-fixed mark / That looks on tempests and is never shaken.”

Sighing, she moved from the windows and to the bookshelf with all of her favourite novels, with a few copies of her own there too. A soft smile slips from her. Even holding it in her hands right now, Sanem has to remember that she did _this –_ she wrote a whole novel and got it published. Never mind that people liked it - that was wonderful to know that they enjoyed her thoughts, that they thought she was a good writer.

But that wasn’t why she did it – she wanted to do it for herself, ( _and for him,_ a small voice whispered), but it was to prove herself that she could do it. And she had. Looking at it, at the office, she couldn’t help but think this is a good life. A satisfying life that would make her, that would make anyone happy. That it _should_ make her happy because it was far more than she could’ve ever dreamed of.

And yet.

_“Sanem,” a whisper of her name that sounded more like a prayer whenever he said it._

_She shivered. Drawing her arms even tighter around his shoulders, bringing him somehow closer than before. His arms desperately clinging onto her back, her waist, just all around her._

_“Sanem, you have to go, you have to leave” he said all this while holding her so close, that they were sharing breaths, sharing heartbeats, sharing their pain._

_“No, no, I can’t. Not when we’re like this. I can always do this later, but you-”_

_“I’m leaving.”_

Someone cleared their throat. Sanem turned around and saw Ahmet standing in the doorway. Pointing at the copy of her novel in her hand, he smiled and said “You know, that’s my favourite book in the world. And it has nothing to do with the fact that I know the author personally.”

Smiling at her, he walked over and reached over to hug her. Sanem stiffened at first, but forced herself to ease down, to relax. He didn’t deserve this broken, this hardened, this statue version of Sanem. After she had run out from the hall and found a taxi to take her back home, she got a call from Ahmet wondering where she had been. She hastily thought of an excuse, saying she wasn’t feeling well, which was the truth, and he was kind enough, caring enough, understanding enough to forgive her. Even more than she deserved. He came to her home the next morning and brought her soup, forcing her to stay at home and recover before coming back to work. He was sometimes too much, too good to her. Any girl would be lucky to have him.

And yet.

She shook her head slightly and leaned gently into the hug.

“Are you sure you’re not a little bit biased?” she asked with a small smile on her face.

He stepped back from the hug, clutching a hand against his heart as though he had been shot by her words, and said “I am appalled you would even suggest that.” Ahmet pried the book from her hands, flipping through the pages, he strolled the room before he read aloud,

“I said there were no words left in me because in fact there was no need for words. I was his, he was mine. The entire world was him. Only him. He was in my every heartbeat and my last would be with him. There were no words to say because all words were him. His name. Only him.”

He stopped moving and tapped a finger at the cover of the book, and said, “This is why I love the book. The words are incomparable. They’re honest. They’re genuine. They’re beautiful. And they are _you_. That’s why it’s my favourite book. You just happened to be my favourite person too.”

He walked to her again and put his hands on her shoulders, suddenly asking “How are you feeling?” His eyebrows furrowed with concern, leaning to study her from a safe distance, checking her face for signs of illness. “Any better since last week? If you feel worse, just let me know and you can work from home and we can send you some more soup and-”

“I’m fine, Ahmet,” Sanem interrupted softly, resting her hands on his that were on her shoulders. “Honestly, I’m feeling much better. And thank you again for the soup. Really, for everything. Thank you.”

He gave her his signature grin, the one that reached his ears and that was always a little too cheeky, but always genuine and she couldn’t help but smile back. The way he carried himself around her, always so considerate and so gentle, it was like he could still see the glass person she once was.

She met him 4 months after _he_ had left. Sanem was still recovering from it all when Ahmet came into her life, like a butterfly in a snowstorm, a reminder of the life that can survive and surprise you in the most unlikely way. At the very first meeting, he had stumbled over some chairs and almost face-planted the ground and when she went down to help him stand again, she fell down, hitting his head so hard that they both sat there clutching their heads in pain. They looked at each other for a moment, before bursting out in laughter, and there Sanem was laughing so hard she almost forgot what it was like to be sad.

She took it as a sign that they would get along just fine. The last 10 months of her working with him as her agent had been wonderful and while there were always hints on his end that he would be interested in pursuing her, he never pushed it, never made her feel uncomfortable, especially when it was clear she wasn’t ready. And these days, Sanem couldn’t help but wonder why she’d been so reluctant. He made her feel safe enough, warm enough, and strong enough. He was someone who was doing more than enough to make her feel better, to make her feel supported and even understood in a way she thought she didn’t deserve.

And yet.

_She froze. Her whole body stilled as the seconds dragged on._

_“What?”_

_He was still holding onto her so, so closely, still had his head buried in her shoulder like he was ready to live and die there for the rest of his life._

_He rose from the deep, from the safety of her shoulder where she could see him now, could see his eyes._

_The truth was always in his eyes._

_And there it was._

_He was leaving her._

There was a knock at the door and Ahmet let go of Sanem’s shoulders, and turned away to meet the person who was peering into their conversation.

“Pardon, I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Yigit said, his arms hanging by his side, his hands gripping the tablet in his hand a little too tightly, Sanem thought. “But I just wanted to remind you that we have that meeting in an hour to discuss your progress on the next novel and then we also have to discuss the upcoming couple of book events.”

“Oh, thank you for reminding me, I coming forgot about it!” Sanem slapped her hand on her forehead.

“Little miss photographic memory forgetting about a meeting, huh? She must be thinking about something else much more important,” Ahmet whispered conspiratorially. Sanem stiffened, tried to force a smile out, but she couldn’t help it – all that time was spent thinking about _him_ and she hadn’t even seen him. She was becoming a mess and she needed to get it together, quickly.

“And Yigit, if there’s anyone to apologize, its me” Ahmet abruptly announced theatrically. Grinning broadly, he reached over to welcome him into a sudden hug, one that took Yigit a few seconds too long to reciprocate. “I was the one intruding here but I just had to meet my star writer here.”

“Doesn’t everyone?” Yigit says, a strange look on his face. Well not really strange, Sanem thought, considering he had it every time Ahmet was in the same room as them.

“Actually Yigit, that reminds me, I have some important things to talk to you about. Unless," he pauses to look back and Sanem, "there is something urgent you guys need to discuss,” he says looking for her permission.

“No, no carry on. I’ll see you at the meeting,” she said waving at them. Yigit held back a second longer but was quickly carried away by Ahmet and his endless chatting.

And then they were gone

And then she was alone again.

_He was leaving her._

_She released herself from his grip, his fingers instinctively reached to bring her back, trying to desperately grasp a hold of her waist, her shirt, of her before she was already too far gone._

_“Why?” Eyes looked away, stuttering breaths, broken voices._

_Like a cold breeze passed by, she clutched her arms close to herself. His hands dying to be where it once was, to bring the light back to the night darkness was arriving in her soul._

_“Where? I- I don’t understand. When are you even -”_

_“Tomorrow morning. I’m going to Canada for a job.” Piercing eyes met broken ones._

_These were daggers for words, the kind that struck their target in one easy swipe but not without hurting the one saying them too._

_“So, you’re leaving for the job then? Is that why you’re really going? You have to go for the job, is that it?”_

_Each question was an accusation, waiting to be denied, waiting for him to reply, that was just waiting._

_“No. I’m leaving because I want to. And I don’t know when I’ll be back- if I will ever be back”_

_Have you ever seen a heart break? The kind that truly shatters and becomes near impossible to fix._

_Because it isn’t what you’d think it be - not like a sudden volcano eruption, an explosion of emotions that made a mess of everything, that kicked and screamed with every drop of blood and fire, nor was it like a hurricane of words, a tempest of tears and things said that spun and hit each other in a blur._

_It was like a cold winter night, the kind where the unforgiving cold and the slick ice settles in and before you know it, you’re frozen._

_So, there she was, the sunlight fading in her eyes and her long-forgotten smile now replaced with the cruel night settling in her chest and a thin layer of ice forming around her heart. The garden that once was her mind held only the old, wilting, rotting flowers, and their thorns, the ever-growing thorns, with their cutting edges and corners, they still curved all around her, now covered all over here._

_And it all happened right before him._

_As though he witnessed it all, how each thorn rose, and all the flowers died, and how every shard of ice had cut through it all, he could do nothing but turn away._

_And so, he did._

_Not turning to look at her, not even one last time, he walked away._

_And then he was gone._

_And she was alone again._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...*taps mic* is this thing still on??  
> im so sorry i dropped off the face of the earth here, but im alive!!  
> i had a crazy few weeks and then i couldnt think of a way to continue the story but i had an idea now and i should be back to posting more!!   
> i hope you enjoy and i would love to hear what yall think about this chapter!!
> 
> p.s the quote is from shakespeare and was actually tweeted by the writer of the show and i remember seeing it and falling in love with it an added it immediately!!  
> p.p.s the title is a song by mitski - definitely recommend it!!

**Author's Note:**

> the title of this fic is inspired by two poems by Pablo Neruda "if you forget me" and "dont go far off" and the chapter title for the first chapter is from "if you forget me". i think they're absolutely perfect for canem - check it out and let me know if there are any other poems/songs that remind you of them!!


End file.
